Refugee
by woodelvesrock42
Summary: Miles Matheson may not always seem warm and cuddly, but he resolves to be the uncle Charlie has been missing for fifteen years. Because, after all, isn't that what families do for each other? Songfic for "Prayer of the Refugee" by Rise Against. NOT INCEST!


**A/N: This is my first Revolution fic, and I must say, I am pleased with the amount of said fics that are already present on this site. Anyway, Revolution is a great show, and I hope you enjoy!**

**This is _NOT_ incest, for those of you wondering. I want to make that clear.**

**The song is "Prayer of the Refugee" by Rise Against. Long live rock'n'roll.**

**P.S. Miles Matheson is a _boss. _I'll stop talking now.**

**Wait...I don't own Revolution or "Refugee"!**

**Okay, I'm done. Promise.**

* * *

_Warm yourself by the fire, son,_  
_And the morning will come soon._  
_I'll tell you stories of a better time,_  
_In a place that we once knew._

Miles Matheson remembers what the world was like before, as if the memory is drenched in the fluorescent lights he once took for granted, like everything else in his life. He remembers now, sitting stiffly erect, as he fights insomnia. He takes his head out of his hands, and glances at Charlie.

_Before we packed our bags_  
_And left all this behind us in the dust,_  
_We had a place that we could call home,_  
_And a life no one could touch._

Charlie. Little Charlie, brave Charlie, who vowed to never let go of her brother's hand. Only, she isn't so little now, as she sleeps, one arm protectively slung over her crossbow. But Miles can still remember the innocent little girl that loved her uncle, especially when he whisked her away on a car ride, or for ice cream, two luxuries he'd never be able to grant her again.

"Don't tell your father," he used to say.

Oh, the things _he _never told her father. They could fill a book. A big one, too, like those _Harry Potter_ books he'd bought for her, hoping she'd read them when he was older.

They were the last things he'd ever bought for her.

_Don't hold me up now,_  
_I can stand my own ground,_  
_I don't need your help now,_  
_You will let me down, down, down!_

_Don't hold me up now,_  
_I can stand my own ground,_  
_I don't need your help now,_  
_You will let me down, down, down!_

_Down!_

___"_Miles?"

He turns, sighing as he repositions himself to face his niece. She _can_ be rather annoying at times.

"Why are you awake, Charlie? It's my watch."

She frowns at him, blue eyes lucid despite the dark.

"Well, excuse me, your majesty."

_Great. She's still bitter about the damn train, _Miles thinks as he rolls his eyes, preparing to reprimand her for her childish behavior.

Then he remembers how much she loves Danny, and suddenly he is too tired to even mutter a disheartening phrase.

"Just go back to sleep, Charlie. Long day tomorrow. Philly, remember? That's a lot of walking," he says in a husky voice.

Mumbling, Charlie flips over, and her breathing evens out.

She's asleep. Good.

She reminds him of Ben, but more importantly, she reminds him of Rachel.

And that was all his fault.

_We are the angry and the desperate,_  
_The hungry, and the cold,_  
_We are the ones who kept quiet,_  
_And always did what we were told._

_But we've been sweating while you slept so calm,_  
_In the safety of your home._  
_We've been pulling out the nails that hold up_  
_Everything you've known._

Damn Monroe, damn him to hell. He should have listened to the son of a bitch in the first place, instead of taking a leaf out of a dictator's book, and instigating massacre and fear in everything and everyone he knew.

Why the hell did he ever agree to take on the militia to avenge Ben, and rescue Danny? What was Charlie thinking, that this was some sort of fairy tale? He formed it, he taught it to be ruthless.

Charlie didn't stand a chance. She'd be killed, captured, or worse.

And Danny was on a train, a train, for heaven's sake! How the hell would they fight a train with an injured rebel, a naive and delusional kid, and an ex-Google executive.

And him. What did he bring to the table? More bloodshed?

What was he?

Dawn comes soon after, and Miles shakes the party awake, one by one.

"Alright, it's a long way to Philadelphia, let's make this as quick as possible."

He hands Charlie her backpack, offering her a grimace.

She takes it form him, and turns, picking her way through the under brush of the forest floor.

He puts his hand down, realizing that the hug he'd expected was fifteen years overdue.

He sighs once more, and starts after his niece.

_So open your eyes child,_  
_Let's be on our way._  
_Broken windows and ashes_  
_Are guiding the way._

_Keep quiet no longer,_  
_We'll sing through the day,_  
_Of the lives that we've lost,_  
_And the lives we've reclaimed._

_Go!_

_Don't hold me up…_  
_(I don't need your help, I'll stand my ground)_  
_Don't hold me up…_  
_(I don't need your help)_  
_No! No! No!_  
_Don't hold me up!_  
_(I don't need your help, I'll stand my ground)_  
_Don't hold me up!_  
_(I don't need your help, I'll stand my ground)_  
_Don't let me down, down, down, down, down!_


End file.
